Distance
by St. Genevieve
Summary: Sam doesn't think he'll ever love after Jess, until he re-meets his childhood sweetheart, Danielle Glass. Dani is a witch who has powers unlike any he's ever seen, and a prophetess to boot. She ends up traveling with the brothers, helping them take down monsters and save people. Soon enough she and Sam are falling head over heels for each other. And that's when it gets complicated.
1. Chapter 1: The Oh Moment and Meetings

_Quick author's note: Supernatural doesn't belong to me, because if it did Destial would be canon and Sam would be a happy moose frolicking with Dean and Cas in the lands of happiness forever. Danielle Glass, however, in mine. I made her up. She is a prophetess and a witch (she takes her powers from nature). I have tweaked some stuff to make her possible. I ship her with Sam hard. The story starts in season 1, after Route 666 and before Nightmare. It's rated M for swearing and lemons. Please enjoy. _

Distance

Prologue: The "Oh" Moment

The Trickster stands before me, gazing at me with the strangest expression. The feeling that I know him, that I have known him forever, makes me tremble. It's not a romantic attraction, what I feel, but…the way blood calls to blood.

"Who are you?" I cry. "Why do I feel like I know you?"

He looks so sad. "I never knew…she never told me about you. But now I know. I know who you are, Danielle. I know what you are. And I am so, so sorry."

I take a step back from him, shaking like a leaf. "I…I don't understand. Tell me what you mean!" Then, almost as an afterthought, I add, "Where are Sam and Dean?"

"They're off in TV land, safe and sound as long as they play their parts." He begins to pace a circle around me. "You're rather skinny for what I know you are. You're also rather powerful for a prophetess, or a witch. You can create things out of thin air. I wonder how Castiel never figured it out."

I turn with him, following him with my eyes. "How do you know I can…make things? I've never told anyone. Not my mom, not even Sam. How do you know?"

The Trickster merely smiles. "You're very young."

"I'm twenty-six, for your information. I'm not that young." I cross my arms. "Now tell me the truth."

"Elizabeth was so young when she must have had you. How old was she? Twenty-three? Twenty-four? I doubt she ever complained. After all, she had a Sybil in her family. Her daughter was "blessed," he made quotation marks with his fingers, "by God. Funny what good old Dad can do. He shaped your face and your body to look like one who was lost long ago. You look so much like _her._" There was a sort of deep sadness in his face. Someone had made him sad.

"Who do I look like?" Curiosity fills me. What the hell is he talking about?

"Her name was Danna. She looked like you, startlingly so. Of course, this was before the Fall of Lucifer. This was before everything went wrong. She was an angel who fell to Earth. She was kind and clever and wonderful. She was loved by all."

"So what happened?" The name Danna fills me with a strange emotion, almost sorrow. I run my fingers through my long, dark hair.

"She chose humanity. Lucifer was consumed by hatred. My brother rebelled. He Fell. The end."

I let loose a frustrated sigh. "I don't understand! Tell me what's going on, Trickster!"

"That's not my name," he says, stepping towards me. I cannot move.

"Then what _is_ your name?"

He cups my face in his hands. His eyes are locked on mine. His breath brushes my forehead. "I am the archangel Gabriel, my daughter," he whispers before pressing his lips to my brow.

He pulls away. I know who I am. "Oh," I murmur. And then I collapse.

0~0~0

~About Five Years Earlier~

Chapter 1: Meetings

Danielle POV:

"_What are you looking for?" _

"_Occult lore." _

"_My name's Elle." _

"_I'm Sammy." _

"_This ring is made of iron. It'll protect you." _

"_I won't forget." _

I wake from the dream with a gasp. For a moment my world turns and I reach over to stop the incessant beeping of my alarm clock. My head aches, my hands and feet are freezing, and my mouth feels like it's full of cotton balls. I have another day to face.

Mira, my roommate, pokes her head into my room. "Good morning, sunshine," she sings. "And how is my delicate little flower of sunrise today?"

"Just about ready to sell my soul to a demon to get you to shut up," I grumble, running my fingers through my hair.

Mira grins. "But then a hellhound will come after you, and I'll be silent and alone."

I snort and roll my eyes. "You're never alone. I'm willing to bet the date you had last night has just done the walk of shame out the side door. And either way, I'm way too smart to deal with a demon."

Mira smirks at me. "Maybe the demon would be able to get you a date," she jokes.

I glare at her. "I'll hex you, Mira. Don't think I won't just because you pay rent."

"Wow. Looks like someone woke up in the wrong side of bed. Did you have another vision?" She sits down on the bed beside me, looking into my face with a seriousness that surprises me.

I shake my head. "No visions. I just had a weird dream. You remember that boy I hung out with the summer when I was fourteen?"

"Sammy-no-last-name?"

"Yeah. Sammy. I had a dream about him…again."

Mira puts her hand on my shoulder. "Isn't that the fifth night in a row you've had a dream about him?"

"Uh-huh. Do you think it means something?"

"It could. I've been having the weirdest sensation all morning…like something's about to happen. Something big," Mira tells me.

I shiver. Mira's psychic, so I do my best not to ignore her when she's got a funny feeling. She knew when my step-father, Luke Dower, wasn't going to come back from a hunt. She knew when my mother was attacked by a demon. She doesn't have visions like mine—all she gets are feelings.

My visions are mostly images and words pieced together. Normally, they have something to do with my future or something really important that's going to happen. Very rarely do I see the past or the present. The clearer my vision is the more likely it is to happen.

"How big?" I ask.

"Life changing big."

"Will it happen to me or you?"

She sighs. "You."

"Great," I groan. "I've already lost my dad, my mom, and one of my best friends. What could the universe possibly throw at me now?"

0~0~0~0

My mom's name was Elizabeth Glass. She was twenty-four when she had me. She never told me my father's name. My mother came from a long line of powerful witches going all the way back to before the Middle Ages. Not evil witches who got their power from deals with demons, but witches who owed their allegiance to Nature and balance. My ancestors had been priestesses of Avalon.

My grandfather had been a Man of Letters and my grandmother a great witch and healer. They were very much in love up until the day my grandfather died when I was ten. Together they ran a bookstore, Glass Books.

The building they owned is the one I live in today. Its five stories. The first two stories are the bookstore. It's filled with all manner of books and is an easy building to get lost in. It's larger than it looks, bigger on the inside. The next two floors are where I live with my roommate, Mira. The fifth floor has a fire escape that leads up to the roof. There are windows that face the ocean and windows that face the city. This floor serves as my art studio.

The building is pretty much ghost and demon proof. My grandpa rimmed the house with iron painted with salt. There are wards around it to protect from malicious intent. My grandparents made sure of everything.

My step-father, Luke Dower, was a hunter. My mom never really got into the hunting stuff. She was a better healer than a hunter. She was a teacher at Boston University and taught Myth Studies. I was homeschooled by my grandmother.

When I was twenty, Luke died on a hunt. My mom was attacked by a demon she'd exorcised when she was younger. She died about a year ago when I was twenty-one.

After she died, her teaching aid, Ryan Santiago, took over her class. Ryan was a good friend of mine and really sweet. He met Mira's brother, Simon Penn, at my mom's wake. They hit it off almost at once and soon fell head over heels for each other. Ryan broke up with his girlfriend, Erin Ferry, and soon enough he and Simon announced their engagement.

Then, a few days ago, I came into Ryan's office to talk to him and found him dead on the floor. Cause of death? His heart had literally been ripped out. Simon was distraught.

The university asked me to take over the class since my mom had taught it for so long. I accepted and they told me once I got my PHD they'd give me the job. I guess it was because my family had donated so much money over the years and my mom was such a great teacher.

Ever since my mom's death I'd felt cold. It was like I just couldn't get warm. There was ice in my veins and my heart was frozen. All I really did was work and paint. If I stopped to think I would shatter.

0~0~0~0

"Umm…Miss Glass?"

I turn around and my heart begins to pound. The man standing before me can't be much older than I am, with an open face and hazel-green eyes. His shaggy brown hair hangs in his face. He's tall but there's a gentleness about him that makes me want to wrap my arms around him. For the first time in months, I feel slightly warm.

"That's me. Can I help you?"

"Yeah." Out of his suit jacket he takes a badge. "I'm Agent David Smith. This is my partner, Matthew Jones." He motions to the man standing next to him.

This man isn't quite as tall. His hair is a sandy brown and his eyes are green. He's freckled and handsome. I'm willing to bet that he's just Mira's type: confident and funny. He has an air about him that makes me think he believes he's God's gift to the world.

"Oh. You're with the FBI. What's up?"

Agent Jones leans against one of the desks in my classroom. "We want to talk to you about the death of Ryan Santiago."

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. "What do you want to know?"

Agent Smith leans forward and his hair falls into his eyes. He brushes it away. "You found Mr. Santiago, didn't you?"

"Uh…yeah. He was in his office, on the ground. His heart was on the floor beside him. There was…a lot of blood. His chest had a gaping hole in it. I touched his hand; it was cold. To be honest, it looked like someone reached into his chest and ripped his heart out. I mean…it was really messy," I explain haltingly.

"Right. And your relationship to the victim?" Agent Jones has been taking notes.

"Ryan was my mom's teaching aid. He was really nice and smart. He was engaged to my roommate's brother, Simon. I actually introduced them to each other at my mom's wake. Ryan was my friend." My voice cracks.

Agent Smith puts a warm hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry for your loss. Do you think Ryan would have had any enemies?"

I think for a moment. "I don't think so. Everyone liked him. And there were no fingerprints at the scene." I don't tell them about the stink of dark magic that was thick in the air when I found his body.

"Alright. We have one more question," Agent Jones says. "Do you think this was a one-time thing?"

"Yes," I lie.

0~0~0~0

I drop my bag behind the counter and perch precariously on the rickety stool that has stood behind the counter for as long as I can remember. Mira mans the cash register. "There were FBI agents looking into Ryan's death," I tell her.

"Really? Were they cute?" Even when something serious happens, if it involves boys the first thing she wants to know is if they're attractive. Go figure.

I roll my eyes. "One of them was alright. The other gave off a self-confident air that kinda annoyed me. Anyway, I need to figure out who killed Ryan before the murderer strikes again."

"Can't you just have a vision about it?"

I shake my head. "You know my visions don't work like that. I wish they did."

"Well…I told you what I felt when I was in that office. It stank of dark magic. We could both smell it," Mira points out.

"Yeah…but there was no hex bag."

"Maybe it was a werewolf," Mira suggests.

"They eat the hearts of their victims. And what kind of werewolf uses dark magic on their prey?" I respond. I shake my dark hair out of the bun I had it in for the day and slip off my jacket.

"I couldn't sense anything but fear from Ryan. Whoever did it knew what they were doing. Maybe it was Erin," Mira says softly.

I shrug. "You couldn't sense anything from her except sadness," I remind my psychic friend. "How's Si?"

She sighs and twirls a lock of curly red hair around her finger. "Simon's…bad. He thinks Ryan might have been killed 'cause he was gay. He's blaming himself. I'm scared he might start cutting again," Mira confesses. "And he just hasn't been sleeping well all alone in his apartment."

"Poor Simon. You should invite him over. Tell him he can stay with us as long as he needs to. He can have the spare bedroom," I say softly.

Mira gives me a look of gratitude. "You're the best. I'll give him a call right now."

She goes into a corner, cell phone in hand. I haven't told her yet, but I'm afraid that if someone targeted Ryan, Simon might be next. If we can get him to stay here for a while, I'll be able to keep him safe and warded. I don't think Mira could handle losing her twin.

I jump off the stool and check the register. Mostly tourists come in here for antique books or we sell stuff on Amazon. Either way, it's a good source of income. I'm pretty sure that when my grandmother opened the store she made a deal with Lakshmi, the Hindu goddess of prosperity, so that the store would always be prosperous. That's probably why she grew basil in her little plant pots—to draw the goddess's favor.

My grandmother taught me to respect all the gods of all the religions. Luke was Christian but my mother was pretty liberal. She respected the Judeo-Christian God who chose me to be a prophetess but she also paid respects to the pagan gods. There are at least a few gods from almost every continent that owe my grandmother or my mom a favor.

"Simon said he'll pack a bag and be over in fifteen. I was thinking we could watch a movie and eat pizza," Mira says, breaking through my thoughts.

I nod. "Yeah. That sounds nice, but I have to go back to the university to make a lesson plan for next week." I shove some money into her hands. "Buy enough pizza for three people and some wings too. I think there's ice cream in the fridge. I'm gonna go change, and then get going. You have fun, okay?"

"Okay."

0~0~0~0

Winchester POV:

"So get this: Ryan and Simon had just announced their engagement a few weeks ago. I looked up his name and found some blog a girl named Erin Ferry writes. Turns out she and Simon had been dating since their senior year of high school. You think it could be her?" Sam Winchester asks, clicking away at his computer.

Dean Winchester, Sam's older brother, shrugged. "You think she's a werewolf?"

Sam shook his head. "Nah. A werewolf would eat the heart. Ryan's heart was just on the ground next to him. We should sneak into the university tonight and check for a hex bag."

Dean nodded. "Alright. I'm gonna take a shower. You should get some shut-eye."

The bathroom door thuds behind Sam's brother and the younger Winchester lets out a sigh. He walks over to the bed and collapses on it. Sam shuts his eyes and does his best to relax.

_A girl who looks like the girl he met, Danielle, but isn't, stands still, dark hair hanging loose over her shoulders, with her head tilted back. She's smiling and she holds a few blue flowers in her hands. She wears white dress that looks vaguely Greek or Egyptian to Sam. Her feet are bare. _

_Then she opens her eyes and looks at him. She tilts her head, blue eyes gazing at Sam intently. She takes a step forward. "Why are you looking at me like that, Samouel? Is there something wrong?" _

_Sam shakes his head. "No, Danna. You just look beautiful." _

_Danna blushes and Sam moves over to her and puts his arms around her. She leans into him. "I had another dream," she says softly. _

_Sam strokes the young woman's hair. "Was it a nightmare, love?" _

"_No. But it was heartbreaking. Someone was calling my name. I don't know why." _

"_Be careful, else your dreams will get you lost." _

_Danna tilts her head back to look at him. "You will never lose me." _

"Sam? Sammy! Wake up," Dean says, shaking Sam out of his dream.

The taller Winchester sits up, breathing hard. "What?"

"It's time to go."

"Right." Sam nods and the dream slips away.

He and Dean sneak into the university through a side door and find their way to the classroom Ryan had taught in without any problems. It's cold in the classroom and Sam can't help but shiver. He feels strange. The hair on the back of his neck stands up.

"Don't move," a girl's voice says. "I've got a gun and I'm not afraid to shoot you. Put your guns down and your hands up!"

Sam and Dean do as the girl directed, putting their guns on the ground and lifting their hands above their heads.

"Turn around," the girl orders.

Sam turns and stares. Suddenly his heart begins to pound, like it wants to jump right out of his chest. His palms become sweaty, his knees are kinda weak. He wonders, vaguely, if he's morphing into a fourteen year old girl because he can't seem to stop looking at the girl in front of him.

The girl is Danielle Glass, the girl they talked to earlier. She looks different though, younger. Sam looks her up and down, taking in her battered sneakers, ripped jeans, and t-shirt. Her hair hangs loose around her, thick and silky, the color of milk chocolate. Her face is a pale creamy color and her high cheekbones are flushed. Her eyes are the color of sapphires and lovely. She's very pretty.

Sam doesn't know how he missed how beautiful she was before and it's like he's seeing her for the first time. Her eyes widen when she sees who the two men are.

"I knew you weren't FBI agents! What are you?"

Sam answers, "We're hunters."

She gives an exasperated sigh. "Hunters? Great. That's just what I need." Danielle lowers the gun but still glares the brothers. "What're your names?"

"I'm Sam Winchester." Sam motions to Dean. "This is my older brother, Dean."

Danielle arches a dark eyebrow. "Winchester? As in John Winchester?"

Dean nods. "He's our dad."

"Right. Umm…sorry I almost shot you," she says, putting her gun away. "Why are you here?"

Sam lowers his hands. "We wanted to check out the crime scene."

"Of course. Sorry, boys, but there's nothing left to check. It wasn't a werewolf; there was dark magic stinking up the air. Whoever it was either made a deal with a demon or a spirit or took the hex bag when they were done. My psychic roommate couldn't find anything." She pauses then adds, almost as an afterthought, "I would have thought you'd be looking for your dad."

Dean stares at her. "What do you mean?"

"John was here a couple months ago. He wanted my help finding a demon or something," Danielle says running her fingers through her hair.

"What demon?" Sam asks, leaning forward.

Danielle shrugs. "I can't remember the name. It was a few months back. I do, however, have some notes on it. I can give them to you, if you like."

"Really? Danielle, you'd help us? " Sam raises his eyebrows, surprised she'd be so willing to help. "You don't even know us."

She grins. Her eyes bore into Sam's. "Call me Dani. And I like helping people. But you have to help me first."

"Yeah. Sure. Anything," Dean says, breaking the hold her eyes had on his brother.

"Help me solve this case. If you're John Winchester's sons, then you're probably fantastic hunters. I don't know if you can, but you might be able to find something my roommate and I missed. You two are related to John Winchester, so you might be of some use," Dani says, leaning back against her desk at the front of the classroom and looking thoughtful. "Do we have a deal?" She sticks out her hand.

Sam and Dean share a look and the older Winchester nods. Sam takes Danielle's hand and shakes. "Deal," he declares.

"Great. Let's get to work."


	2. Chapter 2: The Ties That Bind

_Authors Note: Dani is Sam's childhood sweetheart, which will be revealed through them talking and the eventual flashback. Sam's dream will also be explained as the story progresses. Dean will do more later, I promise, but most of the story will be how the brothers (especially Sam) are important to Dani. This is her story. I will switch between Dani's POV and the Winchester's POV (which is kinda omniscient) whenever I need to. _

Chapter 2: The Ties That Bind

Winchester POV:

Danielle sits at her desk in the classroom, typing away at her computer, while Sam and Dean go through the office. Dani had told them that nothing had been changed from the night of the crime up until then. So the Winchesters carefully comb through Ryan's office and find absolutely nothing.

That's when Danielle makes a sound. It isn't loud, just a wet gasping noise that comes from deep within her throat. Then she cries out and Sam and Dean rush into the room. She's gasping and choking, clutching at her neck, and bent over. "Hex…bag," she wheezes.

The brothers respond immediately. Dean scours the classroom while Sam hunts through her desk. Danielle's rasping breaths are coming shorter now as she kneels on the ground. Sam's heart pounds. And then…he finds the small bag.

Quickly, the tall young man fishes a lighter out of his pocket and sets the pouch on fire. Danielle breathes hard, her dark hair falling in her face. Sam, gently, helps her up. "You okay?" he asks.

She nods. "I'm fine. But…why would anyone want to target me? I was just Ryan's friend."

Suddenly, Sam knows the answer. "You introduced them to each other, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah but…oh. I introduced them!" She face-palms in exasperation. "So whoever this is will probably go after Simon next."

Dean nods. "We need to go talk to him."

Dani nods. "He's at my place. I can take you now. He should be safe, but we can't take any chances. Whoever did this wants to kill us."

"You know who?" Sam asks.

"No, I don't know." She runs her fingers through her hair. "And I really don't like not knowing."

0~0~0~0

Danielle gets into the backseat of the Impala, trying not to tremble. Sam can tell she's afraid—not for her own life, but for Simon's. He's surprised that it impresses him, how she puts someone else's life in front of her own. He hasn't been impressed in what feels like a long time.

"Where do you live?" Dean asks.

Dani gives him the address and lists off directions as he drives. Sam likes the sound of her voice, the smooth alto of it. She reminds him of someone he knew when he was young.

The car stops in front of a five story building with a glowing sign that reads: Glass Books. Sam's heart stops. He turns to look at Danielle. "This is where you live?"

Dani nods. "Yeah. My grandparents owned the store, then my mom, and now me." She opens the car door and steps out. The boys follow her lead.

She unlocks the double doors, and lets the Winchesters in. "This place has a sort of magic that makes people remember it. Tell me, Sam, have you been here before?"

Sam nods. "Yeah. I came here when I was fourteen and needed to find some books on occult lore. A girl helped me. Her name was Elle. We were friends for the summer I was here." He wants to ask Dani if she knows the girl who had been his childhood sweetheart.

Dani turns to face the brothers, smirking. "Sammy, if memory serves we were a lot more than friends."

Sam can't help but grin. "Elle?"

"The one and only. Dam, you got tall," Dani says, her blue eyes sparkling.

Sam laughs, disbelieving that he found the girl who had been his first kiss. "You did too. I mean, I didn't recognize you at all."

She runs her fingers through her hair. "Yeah, well I was funky looking kid." Dani takes a step forward and takes his right hand. On his fourth finger, right where she put it when they were fourteen and he was leaving, was the iron ring that had been her grandfather's. "You kept the ring."

Sam blushes. "Yeah. It never rusted or got too small. I figured since it was iron it might be useful if I came across a ghost." He doesn't mention the times it has saved him from certain death.

"I'm glad you kept it." She pauses, looking at him thoughtfully. "You never came back."

"Yeah…I was a little busy. I'm sorry." Suddenly, Sam realizes that Danielle is still holding his hand. He pulls away and tries to ignore the sense that he's lost something.

Dani takes a step back, sensing his hesitance. "It's fine. We all get busy. Speaking of, you want to help me solve this case?"

Sam nods and Dean, who had been giving the childhood friends a minute, takes out his dad's journal. "How do we track a witch?"

Dani sighs. "We're gonna need help." She pauses and Sam can tell she's tired. "But we should solve this tomorrow. I'm exhausted. You're welcome to stay here, if you want."

0~0~0~0

Danielle POV:

Sam and Dean agree to stay and Dean claims one of my couches. I retreat to my room to meditate on the boy I had known so many years ago.

Sam has changed since we last met. He's taller and more handsome, a strange change from the awkward and adorable young boy I met the summer I was fourteen. There is seriousness in his eyes, a sadness, which hangs over him like a cloud. What could have happened to change him from the boy to the man?

When we first met, Sam had been almost uncomfortable in his own skin like a colt trying to find its balance. He'd been old for his age, solemn, but sweet and funny too. Now, he just seems…older than he should be, like he's seen something that took away his innocence.

Sammy and I had been so close once. He was my childhood sweetheart, my first kiss. When I was fourteen he had lit a candle in my heart, a flame that, even now, refused to go out. And seeing him now was…simply feeding the flame.

Unable to sleep, I rise from my bed and go out to the kitchen. I need some milk…and then I might paint. Painting always helps.

"I thought you were exhausted," Sam says softly.

I smile and turn to look at him. He sits at the kitchen table, a journal open in front of him. "Yeah…exhausted but unable to sleep. It's my curse. I haven't slept well since last September."

Sam raises one eyebrow. "Really?"

I nod.

"Me too. My girlfriend died."

I sit down across from him. "I'm sorry. That sucks." I don't know what else to say.

"Yeah. Her name was Jess." He stares down at the journal. He's miserable.

"How did she die?" I ask.

"A demon killed her, the same demon that killed my mother. It's the demon my dad's hunting right now," Sam explains, his voice rough with sorrow.

"Oh. That's…rough." I ache to put my arms around him.

"You said my dad was tracking a demon. Do you remember what he said?"

I nod slowly. "I remember he asked me about what demons I knew of. I think the one he's tracking has yellow eyes. He's an old demon, and powerful to boot. His name is Azazel."

Sam leans forward, interested. "Azazel?"

"Yeah. All demons have names. The bad part is that he isn't our normal day to day demon. He's one of the Fallen," I explain.

"The Fallen?"

"Yeah, or at least that's the rumor. Most demons were human once, but their time in hell changed them. The Fallen were supposedly angels before Lucifer led them astray. Azazel, in the myths, is one of Lucie's henchmen. According to legend he taught men how to make weapons and taught women how to make and use make-up. Even if he isn't a fallen angel, he's still old and powerful. He was one of the first to lead mankind astray," I explain.

Sam looks impressed. "You know a lot about mythology."

I shrug. "My mom taught Myth Studies at the University. I think the biblical lore is interesting. Most hunters don't believe in angels, but there's so much lore on them that it's hard not to believe they exist a little bit. For my seventeenth birthday my mom gave me a dictionary of all the angels, Fallen or not. I liked learning about them."

Sam sighs. "You haven't changed very much, Elle."

"You have, Sammy. You're older and sadder than when last we met. I guess now I know why."

For a long moment we look at each other, remembering when everything was simpler. "Do you remember the time I took you to Salem and we got caught in a parade?" I ask softly.

Sam grins. "Yeah. Then we went to that dungeon tour."

I smile back. "And then that guy tried to hit on me and you gave him a bloody nose and a black eye."

Sam blushes. It's adorable. "I didn't think you remembered that." He rubs the back of his neck.

"How could I forget? On the ferry-ride back I kissed you to say thanks. It was my first kiss. You looked so surprised, like I'd just given you a medal." I duck my head down and push my hair behind my ear, looking at him through my eyelashes.

"That was my first kiss, too." Sam takes a deep breath. "That was probably the best summer I've ever had. I was free."

"Freedom is only appreciated if you've been bound," I murmur.

"And have you? Been bound, I mean?" Sam leans forward, curious.

"I am bound my fate, just as you and Dean are. I am bound to stand witness," I find myself saying.

"What?" Sam looks startled.

"I…don't know. My head hurts." I raise my fingers to my temple. "Oh shit."

And with that, I lose consciousness.

0~0~0~0

Winchester POV:

Dani's expression suddenly goes slack, her eyes shut. Her eyelids flutter like she's dreaming. Then they open, glazed over. She stands roughly, the chair crashing to the floor. She glides, unnaturally graceful, to the stairs that lead to the fifth floor.

A young woman with wild red hair, who Sam remembers Dani calling Mira, comes out of one of the rooms. "What's going on?"

Sam stares at the young woman. "I don't know. Dani and I were talking and then it was like she fell asleep. She went up the stairs. Is there something wrong with her?"

Mira swears. "She's having one of her visions. She's going to her studio to paint. It must be important for her to have one while she's still awake."

"Visions? Dani has visions?" Sam asks, incredulous.

Mira nods. "She's a prophetess, or at least that's what her mom told her. She gets visions of the future, mostly. Sometimes she sees the past or the present. Whenever she has one she goes into this trance and draws or paints really quickly. She might see several things while in the trance. She'll be fine." She notices that Sam is kind of pale. "She say anything to you before she went under?"

Sam glances sidelong at her. "She said she was bound to her fate, just as my brother and I are. She said she was 'bound to stand witness.' Any idea what that means?"

Mira shrugs. "Not a clue. She says weird stuff like that before she goes under. It's almost always true. She's pretty spot on, or at least I think she is."

"When did Dani have her first vision?" Sam asks.

"She was ten. I can show you the paintings. They're pretty disturbing. A man with shining eyes leaning over a cradle. A woman pinned to a ceiling, bleeding and on fire. A child in a cradle with blood on his lips. Some of the stuff she sees is pretty dark. The last vision she had was…awful. She was screaming like the world was ending, babbling about children and deals and tests and gates. It was awful. She only made on painting, but it was scary as hell. A hand holding a smoking gun," Mira babbles.

Sam nods, not quite listening. "Should we go check on her?"

"You can if you want. All she'll be doing for the next hour or so is painting."

~0~

Sam finds Danielle painting, just as Mira said she would be. Her studio has white, paint-splattered walls, and paintings and drawings everywhere. There's a stack in one corner, a bunch leaning against the wall in another. She has a desk covered with papers and a shelf with pencils, pens, and paint. At that moment she is working on a canvas, her hair wild around her.

Sam sits in the only chair in the room, which is by her desk and watches her. Her movements are precise and graceful as she paints. Slowly, the picture comes together. It's a woman, obviously Danielle, holding someone. The man's back is to the looker, and his head lolls. The Dani in the painting has a horrified look on her face, and she's pressing a hand to the man's back. Something red leaks between her fingers.

Dani lurches back from the canvas with a gasp, the paintbrush falling from her hand. Sam stands, and catches her before she can fall. Blue eyes meet hazel and the rest of the world falls away as they look at each other. For a moment Sam wonders why he isn't kissing her. Then he remembers.

Gingerly, he helps the prophetess stand, making sure she's steady on her feet before taking a step back. "Are you okay?" he asks carefully.

Dani nods. "I'm alright. My head hurts, but that's nothing new." She turns to look at her painting. "Is that girl…is she me?" There's fear in her voice.

"I think so," Sam answers. "It looks like you."

"Great. Now I might lose someone else. Honestly, it's like the universe has cursed me or something. Everyone I love ends up getting hurt," Danielle says, her voice cracking.

Sam knows how she feels. "I've lost people too," he says softly.

Dani looks at him, blue eyes sad. "I have a feeling by the end of the story we'll have lost a lot more."

"Story?"

The young woman shrugs. "Wasn't it Shakespeare that said 'all the worlds a stage and all the men and women are simply players' or something like that? From what my mother told me, she thought we all have a destiny, even if it's a simple as serving as a waiter or saving the world. We all have roles to play."

Sam shakes his head. "Dean would say that we make our own destinies, that the world is just that: a world. There's no such thing as fate."

"And what would you say?"

"I'm not sure. I don't usually dwell on fate." He gives Dani a wry smile. "I don't know if I believe we're destined to play certain roles."

"I don't know either. My mom wasn't always right. She told me I'd been chosen by God to be a prophetess. She never told me why she believed that, only that an angel had told her. When I was younger, I blindly believed it with her." Dani looks down at her feet.

"And now?"

"Now, I don't know if angels even exist."

0~0~0~0

Danielle POV:

The next morning dawns bright and early, and my head still hurts. Sam doesn't mention what happened the night before, and I'm glad. It's an intimate secret, that I can see the future. It frightens me more than I can say. I am glad that it was Sam and not Dean who was witness to my vision. Dean seems more quick to judge.

"So…how are we gonna find whatever tried to gank you?" Dean asks.

I look up from my breakfast of leftover pizza and scowl. "We're going to find what tried to kill me with a little help from the other side."

"The other side?"

I nod. "Ryan's soul is unlikely to have moved on yet. If we can talk to him he might have an idea of what killed him. I'll have to go into a trance so I can talk to his spirit."

"A trance?" Sam leans forward, an eyebrow raised in question.

I nod. "I'll need a little help."

"What kind of help?" the younger Winchester asks.

"I need an anchor. One of you has to stay by my body. I'll tie a piece of my soul to yours so I won't die," I explain. "Which one of you wants to help?"

Dean shakes his head. "Hell no."

I run my fingers through my hair, exasperated. "We can't use a board, which would invite all kinds of trouble. We don't know who's doing this. We need answers, and this is the way to get them."

"I'll do it," Sam says.

"Sammy, no. It's dangerous." Dean puts his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"It won't hurt him. If anything, it'll hurt me. I'm the one who's going to tie a bit of my soul to his. It's only dangerous for me. Sammy will be perfectly safe," I assure the elder Winchester.

"Why don't I believe you?" Dean's glare cuts through me.

"I don't need you to believe me, but know this: I have known Sam since I was fourteen. He was my best friend. I would never, ever do anything to put him in harm's way. This isn't your decision. It's Sam's." I lift my chin and glare right back.

Dean opens his mouth to argue but Sam beats him to it. "I'll do it," Sam says. "I'll be your anchor."

"Sammy—"

"Dean, I'm twenty-two. I can do this. I trust Elle." Sam's eyes meet mine and for the first time in months, I feel warm.

0~0~0~0

Sam is a warm presence on the roof. We stand side by side, looking out at the bay together. The sunlight sparkles off of the water, a study in blue and green and gold. It's so beautiful I want to take Sam's hand in mine. So I do.

"For you to be my anchor, I need to establish physical contact to tie my soul to yours. Okay?"

"Sure," Sam says, chuckling nervously.

"Okay. Just remember that's all this is," I tell him.

He turns towards me, a look of question on his face. Then, quick as a minnow, I put my arms around him, stretch up like a sunflower, and press my lips to his. Our bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle and I run my fingers through his hair. His mouth is warm as I probe it gently with my tongue. With hesitance, Sam returns the kiss, wrapping his arms around me. One hand he buries in my hair, the other presses between my shoulder blades.

Carefully, I take a piece of my soul, imagining it as a golden cord, and tie it around his. His soul is beautiful, full of light and warmth and yet fierce too. It burns with color and light, old and young and lovely. Sam's essence is exactly as I had thought it would be…and yet there is a strange feeling. Have I seen his soul before?

Finally, I break the kiss pulling away gently. We are well and truly bound now and he can serve as my anchor. We're both breathing hard. "Sorry," I say, not sorry at all.

Sam looks just as affected as I feel. "It's fine," he says. "I haven't been kissed in a while."

I grin. "Me neither."

"So that was physical contact? Am I your anchor now?"

I nod. "Yep. You and I are tied together now. My soul is bound to yours."

"Okay. Should we, uh…contact Ryan now?" He looks down at his feet awkwardly and I want to kiss him again. Damn it.

"Yeah. We should contact him."

0~0~0~0

I set up candles in a circle wide enough for me to fall back on a pillow. I light them carefully, and motion for Sam to enter the circle. "Let's do this," I say, pretending to be brave.

Dean leans against the wall a few feet away. "So how many times have you done this?"

"Never," I answer.

Dean balks. "Never?"

"I've seen my mother do it and I know the spell. Trust me; if it doesn't work I'm the one who will end up dead. Sam is perfectly safe." I don't mention that if it does work the bond between myself and Sam won't go away. It will simply be, not consummated, but tied nonetheless.

"I'm ready," Sam says.

"Okay."

We sit, cross-legged, across from each other. He holds out his hands and I take them. His hands are large and callused. I haven't touched anyone this much in a long time. I'd forgotten how nice it was to have human contact.

I shut my eyes. "Remember, stay by my body. If you move, it will interrupt the spell. You'll be in a sort of trance state, so you'll see and hear what I do. Don't break the circle. Ready?"

"Ready."

"_Great gods and angels of the beyond, I ask your blessing on this endeavor. I ask for justice, to right a wrong. I wish to right an unwarranted death. Death, will you let me pass?"_ I say in Celtic.

I feel the answer in my bones. _Yes._ I fall back into the pillow, my hands slipping out of Sam's. The last thing I feel is cold. Then nothing.


	3. Chapter 3: Creatures and Arguements

_Hi everyone! Thanks so much for reading. I would really appreciate some reviews on this story, it's kinda hard to write without them. I hope you enjoy this chapter. If you think this is tension, wait until Dani starts traveling with the brothers. Read, enjoy, review!_

Chapter 3: Creatures and Arguments

Danielle POV:

I float in the nothingness, not sure where I am or who I am. There is absolutely nothing but darkness. Then, a voice.

"Elle?"

The memories come back to me slowly, who I am and what I'm doing. The owner of the voice. "Sammy?"

"Yeah. It's me."

The dark nothingness fades away and I know where I am. My spirit stands in the circle of candles. Sam sits across from my inert body. He can see me.

"You okay?" he asks, concern apparent on his face.

I nod. "I'm fine. It's weird being incorporeal. I'm not going through the floor, but I'm not really touching it. I'm here but not here."

Then I see the tie I made. It's a golden cord that stretches from my heart to his. It glows with a sort of energy that makes me wonder how strong it is. Carefully, I touch it. It feels warm.

Sam stares at it with a sort of interested confusion. "Is that the bond?"

"Yeah. That's it. It's…stronger than I was going for, but it will keep my soul tethered to yours, and therefore not dead." It was so bright. "I'm gonna go. I'll be back soon, and we'll be able to communicate mind to mind. Just think something, and I'll hear it. Okay?"

"Okay."

So I move, not walking and not floating, until I reach the wall. I phase right through and fall/float down to the street. I move through Boston as a ghost, there but not there and I wonder how actual ghosts do it. It's very lonely.

_Sam?_ I ask mentally.

_I'm here. I can hear you. This is really weird,_ he thinks back. _Where are you gonna look for Ryan's ghost?_

_I'm going to try the place of death first. Then, if he's not there, I'll try his apartment. Being a ghost is really strange. _

I can feel his chuckle. _Really?_

_Yeah. It's like…I'm here but not here, you know?_

I feel Sam's answer. _No. But I've never been dead. _

_Neither have I. This isn't really death. This is just me being out of my body,_ I say.

Sam's smile fills my mind with light. _You're kinda crazy, aren't you?_

_What gave it away?_

_I can see into your head. You've got a lot going on. I can feel your mind going a hundred different directions,_ he says, awed.

_You're only seeing what I want you to see,_ I tell him. _My secrets are locked safely away. And I can see into your head too. You've had a rough childhood. I'm sorry. _

He shrugs. _My dad wasn't father of the year. Dean looked out for me though. He was always there. _

_I can see that. _

0~0~0~0

I wander through the University, there but not there. Sam's mind brushes mine, gentle as a wave on the sand. He's a comforting presence. I shut my thoughts of like away from him. I'd only known this grown-up version of Sam for a little over twenty-four hours. You can't fall for someone in twenty-four hours. Can you?

Finally, I reach Ryan's old office. And then I see him. He looks almost transparent and exactly as he did the last time we spoke. His dark hair slicked back from his face and his dark eyes found mine. "Dani?"

I grin. "Hey, Ryan."

"Are you dead too? Did she kill you too?" His voice is angry. "I'll kill her!"

"What? No, Ryan, I'm not dead. I'm very alive. I'm just having an out-of-body experience so I can talk to you. Believe me, I'm not dead. And who's 'she'?" I float forward.

"Erin. She was holding this little bag and saying these words, like a witch. And then my heart…burst out of my chest and I was dead," Ryan tells me.

"Erin? Your ex-girlfriend Erin? She killed you?" I ask, aghast.

"Yeah. I guess she wasn't too happy that I got engaged to Simon," Ryan says. "But there was something weird about her…a sort of darkness."

I sigh. "Shit. She must've made a deal with a demon. God, Ryan, I am so, so sorry."

"It's okay. How's Simon?"

I don't see any point in hiding it so I answer, "Si's a mess."

"Fuck," he says under his breath.

"Yeah. He's barely eating and refuses to pick up a pencil. He won't draw, not even a little bit. It's freaking Mira out. Right now, he's using the spare bedroom at my place since he doesn't wanna be in your apartment. He's just…broken, I think," I tell Ryan softly.

Ryan runs his fingers through his hair. "Oh, Simon."

I feel a tug at my heart. It's the bond. If I stay out of my body for much longer, I'll be stuck. I'm not strong enough as a witch to keep it going for too long. "Ryan, I have to go. If I stay out of my body for much longer, I'll be stuck. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Tell Simon I love him. Bye, Dani."

0~0~0~0

Back at the bookstore, I float beside my body. Sam and I look at each other. "I'm gonna miss you in my head," I say.

He grins. "I haven't been in there long."

_You've been in here longer than you know_, I think to him.

And with that I dive back into my body.

I gasp and sit up, taking deep breaths of the candle-scented air. My head pounds. "It was Erin," I tell the Winchesters.

"Really?" Sam sounds surprised.

"Yeah. She must've made a deal," I murmur sadly.

"But you're a witch too, aren't you? How can you have power without making a deal?" Dean asks.

I grin. "Not all witches are evil, Dean. Not all of them get their powers from deals with demons. My family has followed the old ways since before Christianity. The women of my family have always been powerful witches, sorceresses, and priestesses. We take our power from the forces of nature, the old gods, and angelic powers," I explain patiently.

Dean looks unconvinced. "Sure. I still don't trust you…or any other witches."

"Dean!" Sam's face goes red. I can't tell whether it's from anger or embarrassment.

"Because you hunters are so much better. You go in, guns blazing, shooting first and asking questions later. Do you even know how many innocent people get hurt? Do you even care? Not all vampires are evil. Not all werewolves are evil. Not all ghosts are evil. Just because someone's different, doesn't mean they're bad and you should kill them," I say in a low, tight voice.

"At least I'm human," Dean retorts.

I snort. "I'm human too. It's not my fault you're completely ordinary. No powers, nothing special. You're just your daddy's weapon. Nothing more," I snarl.

Dean takes a step back from me as though I've slapped him. Shock and hurt flash across his face. "You…bitch," he mutters.

"I don't have time for this." I stand and the candles go out. "I'm going to go stop Erin. You're welcome to come along if you wish."

I step out of the circle and sweep past Dean. I feel Sam's eyes on my back as I leave the room.

0~0~0~0

Winchester POV:

Dean clutches the steering wheel, his knuckles white. He's muttering to himself the way he does when he's really angry and doesn't want to talk about it. Sam can feel the rage pouring off him in waves.

"Dean…"

Dean doesn't take his eyes off the road. "What?" the eldest Winchester asks angrily.

"Why does her defending who she is piss you off so much?" Sam asks softly.

Dean sighs. "I don't know, Sammy. She just gives me a funny feeling…like she's not right or somethin'." Dean gives his brother a sidelong look. "She likes you."

Sam snorts. "We were best friends when we were kids, Dean."

"And when was that?"

"I was fourteen. It was when you and dad were hunting in the Massachusetts area. I wandered into the bookstore and there she was. It was like we'd known each other forever. When she smiled at me, my heart stopped. When she kissed me that first time…I fell. We were only together for four months, and then I had to leave," Sam explains softly. "She was my first love, Dean. She was the one who taught me what love means."

Dean's hands tighten on the steering wheel. "_She_ taught _you_ how to love?"

Sam looks down at his lap. "Yeah. Dad was too drunk or too obsessed with hunting to have time to teach me what I was supposed to know. You didn't know anything about being in love. Mom was dead. I barely even knew how to talk to girls until I met Elle. She…taught me it was okay to have feelings. She taught me there was more to life than hunting."

"Well then tell me, Sammy, why have I never heard of her?"

"What could I have told you, Dean? That there was this girl I knew for four months? That I had fallen in love with her and didn't even know her last name? That she made me happier than anything? No! You'd have laughed. Dad wouldn't have listened. You were leaving, and I had to follow. So I said goodbye to Elle…and left. I didn't want to talk about her because it was painful. The next time we were in Boston, I couldn't find the bookshop or her. So I made myself forget," Sam tells his brother, his voice rough with emotion.

Dean can't help but feel bad for his baby brother…and yet…"You fell in love with a girl you'd only known for what, four months?"

"Yeah. But I was a kid. It doesn't matter anymore. Can we just finish this case and work on finding dad?" Sam asks, changing the topic abruptly.

"Fine," Dean says, his knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel.


End file.
